Niko's Birthday
by Sarif
Summary: FLUFF WARNING! Not for the faint of heart...A oneshot about the arrival of Ed's youngest child. Note: This is in conjunction with Fire and Light: Sequel to Conqueror of Shambala...which means you may want to read that fic first...


;;;Author's Note: Hi guys, it's been a while, and I thought maybe you'd like a bit of a bonus drabble. So here's the prize for all those who have read Fire and Light up to Chapter 5…and maybe a few that haven't. I know I'm a complete toad for not updating either of my fics; gomen, life, plot attacks and writer's block have intervened repeatedly.

Yeah, I know, whine whine whine. Get to the story already, Sarif.

And I will, but before I do, some clarifications:

1. Trisha is Ed and Winry's daughter and eldest child. Please read Fire and Light: Sequel to Conqueror of Shamballa. I can give a ninety-nine percent guarantee that you'll like it.

2. William is their son. You should really read Fire and Light.

3. No, really, I beg you, go read Fire and Light first. I think the story will be much richer and worthwhile if you do.

4.Arelana is Al's wife. She's a doctor and an alchemist. Their twins are named Louis and Richard. NO I WILL NOT EXPLAIN. GO READ FIRE AND LIGHT.

_Niko's Birthday_, or _Six Years After_

"All right, all right, but this is the last story for the night, and I'm serious this time. Which one did you want?" Edward Elric pretended to grumble.

His daughter's grin of triumph could have lit the summer night. "The one about when Niko was born. I like that one."

"Ah, Tri, I've told that one a thousand times. Besides, you were old enough then to remember that."

"I just remember the part where you tripped over me."

Ed winced. He remembered that too. "No one's ever going to let me live that down, are they?" he asked rhetorically.

---

It had happened in the midst of celebrating the anniversary of their return home. Roy and Riza and six-year-old Maes, Glacier and Elysia, Havoc and his wife and their daughters, Scheska, Farman, Breda and Fury, Maria Ross and her husband, Tom Broche and his girlfriend, even Rose and Armstrong; everyone had come and crammed themselves around one long table that he and Al had dragged into the backyard. The toasts and jokes and stories and friendly insults had flown back and forth in a loud happy haze.

Edward's two imps, four and five years old at the time, were kicking their feet proudly atop the books their father had stacked to create impromptu highchairs. They were seated down the table with Roy's son Maes, the Havoc girls and Elysia, who had them all well in hand.

Ed himself had spent the afternoon trading snarky comments with Roy and holding hands with Winry, who held a slumbering twin draped over the swell of her belly, as she was in her eighth month and so lacked a lap.

Roy had paused to chew, so Ed took the opportunity to ruffle Louis's hair and brush his flesh hand over the curve that made his nephew's impromptu seat.

"I can take him if he's heavy," he offered quietly as he leaned in, smiling. His family and friends were all here and well and better than well; he didn't have to get on a train tomorrow, his research was going well and soon—he grinned as his wife leaned into his side with a sigh—_very_ soon there would be a new little face among the Elric ranks. There wasn't a man in Amestris happier than he was right now.

Winry smiled at him, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, he's fine, he's so quiet and cute, he looks just like Al when—unh!" she gave a sudden, sharp grunt and curled away from him, around her stomach, half-standing just as Ed felt something wet slap against his shoe. Water, it felt like. He found himself glancing at the table in front of Winry in confusion. If nothing had spilled then what—

And just like that, in the space of an instant, Edward went from a state of drowsy contentment to unadulterated terror.

He stared into Winry's widening eyes for what felt like eternity, then both of spoke at once:

"—I thought it was just false labor--"

"—it shouldn't be here for another month--"

Ed didn't remember standing up, only that everyone was suddenly looking from him to Winry and their eyes were growing just as wide as hers were and his must have been.

"Edward--"

"Brother, is it--?"

Ed picked Louis up and handed him (gently!) to Riza, then picked Winry up and ran for the back door. Al and Lana just barely managed to get ahead of him to open it and follow them upstairs.

---

It didn't take long for Lana and Winry to order him out of the bedroom. Even then he didn't (or couldn't, he had been so petrified he wasn't sure which applied) go willingly; Al had to more or less remove him from the room. Which meant Alphonse shoved an elbow in Edward's gut to knock the wind out of him, then slung him over his shoulder with a magnanimous "It's for your own good, Brother." The small part of Ed's brain that wasn't gibbering in fear vowed payback for the mutiny.

Once downstairs, he was unceremoniously dumped on the couch before his younger brother stationed himself at the foot of the stairs. Everyone decided to try and be helpful all at once, Scheska and Elysia most of all by herding the kids into the library, which was always an effective distraction for Maes and Ed's miscreants.

"I'm never having kids," Breda announced supportively from the sofa arm as Ed sat back up, growling something in his sibling's general direction.

"Same as him," Falman and Fury chimed in, pale-faced. They kept flicking anxious glances from the white-eyed, wire-tense Edward to the ceiling.

Havoc didn't look much more enthusiastic than his fellow officers, but he smiled weakly from his perch beside his fellow colonel. "We both know waiting's the hard part, right Boss?" Jean's eight-year-old, not overly excited by books, wandered back in and climbed into his lap. Havoc held her with one hand while absently hunting for a cigarette with the other. He'd almost brought it to his lips when Edward, without looking at him and without changing expression, slapped it across the room.

"Not in my house, damn it."

"Sorry, Boss. Got nervous and forgot what I was doing."

Ed laughed hollowly.

"It's all right Edward, Winry's done this before and everything went beautifully, right?" That was Glacier on his left, her hand that was patting his shoulder. "Elysia was early too, but you already know how well that turned out, remember?" She smiled encouragingly, compelling a weak echo of it from Ed.

Riza was on his other side, silent but sympathetic. "Would you feel better if I went up to check on them?" At Edward's emphatic nod she rose smoothly and went up the stairs.

Alphonse gave her a grateful smile as she passed. "Winry's fine, Brother. I can hear pretty well from here and nothing's really started yet," he assured.

Edward's reply was to groan, face in his hands. "It shouldn't have started for another _month_."

"Here Fullmetal, drink this." Mustang came out of the kitchen and thrust a glass firmly into the younger man's hand, more than halfway filled with amber liquid. "I'd meant it for a gift, but I think you need it now. And maybe the rest of us, too." He chuckled faintly as the every man in the room save Fullmetal and his brother made a dash for glasses.

Edward's brandy was down to a thin film when a sharp cry came from upstairs. The entire room started as the guilty twitch of a steel hand shattered the glass it held. The shards hadn't had a chance to hit the floor before Ed was out of his seat and lunging for the stairs.

There was a scramble as everyone threw themselves out of his way, and then a tussle ensued as Al leapt forward to check his brother's charge and Ed employed every trick he knew to get around him. Edward was fast, desperate, and wiry as a ferret, but Alphonse finally had enough and knocked his brother's feet out from under him.

Havoc's wife Annette was sweeping up the glass and Al was sitting on his brother with his left arm locked when Trisha and Will barreled into the room, frightened by the noise and no longer willing to be reassured by Elysia. They skidded to a halt when they caught sight of their father, flattened to the floor with a determined Alphonse on top of him. They gaped for a second, then addressed their uncle with "Was Daddy being bad again, Uncle Al?"

Edward's face wasn't visible, but the entire room privately marveled at how quickly his ears attained that amazing shade of red. "No, I _wasn't_. Tell your uncle to let me up, blast it."

Both children seemed to consider his words, heads cocked to one side, then looked to their uncle to affirm their father's indignant command. Several people (fortunately for them, Ed couldn't identify who it was with his face planted in the floor) snickered at the gesture.

"Yes he was." Al contradicted his brother primly. "I'm keeping him here so he can't annoy your mother."

Mustang's eyes narrowed in amusement. Edward couldn't see this with his face pressed into the wood, but he could certainly hear it in the other alchemist's tone. "'Again?' How often is your brother forced to sit on you, Fullmetal?"

Edward muttered something about nosy bastard generals and their inevitable messy assassinations into the floorboards. The tirade ended in a whimper when another muffled cry echoed from above. No one was sure if it had come from Ed, his children, or both.

Eventually Edward conceded to himself that inhaling floor varnish wasn't any help to Winry. He announced his awareness of the fact with a grunt of "Al, let me up."

"Are you going to behave?" his brother asked pointedly.

There was a long pause, as though Ed were thinking it over. Then, grudgingly: "_Fine_. Yes. Just let me the hell up before you suffocate me."

Alphonse checked to make sure his brother hadn't crossed his fingers, then helped him to his feet. Edward brushed himself off and grimaced at Al, who cocked an eyebrow back at him over his folded arms. Snorting, Ed spun on his heel and began to pace back and forth across the living room rug, his path taking him from the fireplace to the foot of the stairs.

Al kept a wary eye on him until one of the twins started to cry; then he jumped like a gun had gone off over his head and dashed over to take the toddler from Captain Ross. Ed eyed the stairs consideringly for a moment before his brother noticed the direction of his attention and shot him a warning look over his son's head.

_Make me set this child down and you are going to dig your teeth out of the floor, Brother, _the look promised. Edward sighed in frustration and resumed his pacing, his prosthetic foot clunking heavily with every other step.

The women remaining in the room took it upon themselves to relieve the tension, their voices determinedly cheerful as they distracted the children wandering back from the Elrics' library. Scheska and Elysia trailed in their wake, and together they managed to get them all sitting in a loose circle while Scheska read from thick tome of adventure stories. Scheska's soft voice and low murmuring of the other adults conspired to drain some of the tension from Ed. He was considering sitting down on the couch again when a sudden, articulate screech came from upstairs.

"_Damn you, Edward Elric!_"

Ed jumped in mid-step, then hurled himself at the stairs for a second attempt. In the same instant his startled daughter and son leapt from the floor and made a beeline for their father's legs.

Surprise and the children's combined weight caught Ed directly across his knees. He toppled, planting his chin in the floor with a sickening crack and carrying his daughter and son to the floor with him.

All three sat up almost immediately, Edward more than a little stunned and Tri and Will more surprised than hurt as everyone crowded around them. A trembling lower lip signaled William had gotten over his shock, and the little boy began to cry. His sister started patting him all over guiltily in an attempt to console him. Meanwhile their father managed to shake the stars from his vision and took in the scene with a look of abject unhappiness. Edward scooped his whimpering son off the floor as his friends helped him climb unsteadily to his feet and, still shaky, drop back on the couch. Tri took the opportunity to climb into his lap as well and, to his surprise and the amusement of everyone else in the room, began to pat _him_, saying "It's all right, Daddy, Auntie Lana will make Momma better, she's a really _good_ doctor."

The sudden role reversal startled Ed into laughing weakly with the rest. "I'm sure she will, sweetheart. I'm sorry for scaring you."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Hawkeye was at the foot of the stairs. "She's asking for you. It's started in earnest now."

Ed paled and nodded, starting up the stairs—and halting as two human octopi anchored themselves to his legs, crying: "We want to go! Take us with, Daddy!"

Edward's tone descended into the ominous rumble of paternal disapproval. "_No. _Not right now. Let go, you two." When the weight didn't disappear from his legs, the rumble dropped an octave. "Trisha, William, let go _now_." He frowned to let them know meant it; bringing the growl and the yellow-eyed stare to bear was usually more than enough to make even his children jump to.

Not today, though. His son turned huge, wet gray eyes up at him, and his eldest matched him with her own stubborn, cat-eyed glare and jutting chin. "_No! _We wanna see Momma!" they both shouted, burying their faces in his trouser legs and gripping harder than ever.

Any other day Edward might have appreciated the irony of his own willfulness come back to haunt him.

Today, however, Father was not amused. Ed could practically hear his temper shredding as he"I'm going to count to three. If you're not off by _one_, I'll take your chalk away for a week. If I hit _two _it'll be a _month_. If I_ finish _this_ sentence _and the two of you _haven't let go—_"

Alphonse decided to take pity his elder sibling's shattered nerves and intervened. "Brother, I can take them and wait in the hall."

The look Ed turned on his little brother was split between desperation and worship. "_Please_. Thank you, Al."

---

Ed couldn't help but wince as Winry's sweat-slick hand tightened. He caught himself almost wishing his wife held his automail, though if she were he had no doubt she'd be leaving dents in it. Dents she would ball him out for later.

"How much longer?" Both his tone and the look Edward turned on Arelana was sick with helplessness. He hated this, hated Winry in pain, hated the fear that hit him the same as it had the last two times they had done this. Repetition hadn't made it any easier, or left him feeling any more prepared.

If the results hadn't been so breathtakingly beautiful none of this would be worth it.

"Not long now—which is exactly what I said ten seconds ago, Edward. It's all moving at a good pace and everything's _fine_. So settle down before you have a heart attack and wind up as my patient, too." The unflappable Lana didn't even look up from where she was positioned at the foot of the bed.

"Hey alchemy geek, if you don't like the pace you should--aaghh!--try it from _this_ end. It's past time you took your turn at this, anyway." His wife attempted a tight smile, panting, sweat beading under her eyes.

Ed dipped a towel in the bowl and water he had alchemized on entry and ran it gently over Winry's face. "I don't think being pregnant would look nearly so good on me," her husband offered weakly, cradling her hand in both of his and pressing it to his lips. "Sorry, Win," he breathed into her palm.

"Edward Elric, you apologize again and--_hunnngh!_--you're going to be _wearing_ that bowl!" She meant it, too; he could see it in her eye.

"Yes, dear," was her husband's uncharacteristically meek reply.

Winry gave him half a glare, as though she almost wished he had argued with her. Anything for a distraction. She settled on trying to reassure him; it was just as pointless, but it would keep her mind on something other than the feeling of being slowly pulled apart by huge, ungentle hands.

She was vaguely impressed on how convincing she sounded as she ground out, "This is easy compared to Trisha."

Though honesty compelled her to add a moment later: "If this could ever be called--_unnnaaghh!--easy._ God, Lana, tell the kid to hurry it up already!"

"He doesn't listen to his mother; why should he listen to his aunt?" Lana replied with her unshakable physician's calm. "It's almost here, Winry, just breathe and bear down when the next pain hits."

And it did hit, like a runaway locomotive. Ed's wrist made a sickening pop as Winry hauled on it, clamping his fingers together and yanking him down toward the bed. Edward only heard it by bone conduction; his ears were full of his wife's close-proximity yell. He screamed too, though in pain or sympathy he couldn't have said.

"That's the head! Push, Winry, here comes the rest--"

Winry let out a groan, but it had an edge of determination. Now, finally, the end was in sight. Ed clamped his teeth on a whimper as his hand was wrenched even further, forcing his fingers to close around his wife's hand.

There was a slithering rush, and suddenly Arelana held a tiny, limp red body. With a sound whack across its hind parts a thin wail arose, trailing to a steady mew. "Ed, warm that water again, but not too hot."

Edward did as he was told, torn between staying beside Winry and hovering anxiously over his sister-in-law as she washed and toweled the weakly squirming little scrap of life. Then came the afterbirth, and it really was over.

Ed shoved his dripping bangs out of his eyes for a better look, then shook his head in anxious annoyance when they flopped straight back into his face. "Is everything all right? How's Winry? What _is _it?"

"It," Lana said, smiling hugely as she walked around his right shoulder to lay their baby on Winry's chest, "is a healthy, lovely baby boy. He's a little on the small side, but that's to be expected."

Winry sagged back against the cushions as Ed's knees gave out and left him slumped on the mattress. Tears were flowing freely from both of them. "Thank you, Lana," Edward murmured, stroking Winry's head as she cried in exhaustion and relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Winry did it all. There wasn't anything for me to do except clean up." Lana gently started to change the bloody, fluid-stained sheets.

"It's all right, I've got it," Ed assured her, and with a clap and a flash the stains and the damp were gone. His brother's wife slipped out quietly a moment later, leaving the three of them to get acquainted.

Ed pulled himself onto the bed slowly, careful not to shake the mattress and disturb the new arrival and his mother. Winry was already thoroughly enthralled by the fragile newcomer, stroking the tiny body with tears glinting in her lashes and a smile so brilliant the sun was dulled by comparison. It made Ed's heart ache to look at her; she was so blindingly beautiful, in a way that had everything and nothing to do with the sweat that darkened her hair and the exhaustion that hollowed her eyes.

Very gently, tasting salt on his lips, Edward lifted his wife's shoulders and slid between her and the cushions, lowering her to rest her head and back against his chest, cradling her as she cradled the baby. Very very gently he reached out and brushed a crooked and trembling finger along the infant's petal-soft cheek.

"Hello, my son." Ed grinned crookedly with suddenly watering eyes as his cheek came to rest against his wife's. "I hope you like it here."

At the feel of tears that were not her own, Winry reached around to cradle her husband's cheek with her free hand, following the brush of her thumb along his jaw with the butterfly touch of a kiss.

Edward turned his face into her palm to return the kiss just as lightly. "Winry," he whispered hoarsely. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world."

His wife tilted her head to turn that wonderful, fatigued smile on him. "You shou' really get some glasses. 'm tired and 'm sweaty and I look like hell. But that's just fine," she said, before her husband could contradict her. "'Cause this little guy _more_ 'an makes up for his mom. He's got your ears, Ed, look. He's gonna be so handsome, just like his daddy." Winry giggled exhaustedly. "You make very pretty children, Edward Elric."

Feeling oddly shy, her husband murmured back, "If he's pretty it's your fault for making him that way," and leaned down to kiss her again, vibrating her bones when he chuckled. "He looks like a duckling to me; way too cute and a lot of yellow fuzz on him already. Weren't Trisha and Will kind of blotchy and squashed? And bald, I remember them being very bald. And very loud."

"Oh hush." Winry's hand came down to slap him lightly on the thigh. She yawned hugely. "Help me figure out what we're going to call him."

"Huh." Ed leaned around to prop his chin on his wife's shoulder, nose to nose with that tiny face. He smiled to feel warm breath caress his cheek with every fall of the baby's and chest, long, soft-looking lashes making dark bronze crescents on each cheek. He wondered what color the baby's eyes would be when they opened. Gold maybe, like his father's and his grandfather's? His mother's sky blue? His brother's stormy slate-gray or his uncle's changeable bronze? The possibilities were infinite, and it didn't seem right to attempt a name before they had really "met" him. The eyes would give too much insight into this new life in their midst.

Ed brushed his thumb against the snub little nose and grinned again, marveling at the intricacies of a mechanism so small and fragile-seeming. He didn't know anything about handsome; _this_ child was absolutely beautiful. Just like his brother and sister. Just like his mother.

Still, Ed was fairly certain all his previous ideas for names wouldn't do. If this infant had been a girl it would have been Sara, after Winry's mother, a name Edward liked just fine. But Winry had been telling him for months they were having a boy (he never understood how she knew, but about four months along she would announce whether the baby would be a boy or a girl as though it were set in stone. Mother's intuition, Ed supposed; she hadn't been wrong yet).

"I don't think any of the names we were batting around really suit him. He's so quiet; Will and Tri were both yelling for their first meal by now, but he just wants to sleep." Edward's hand spanned the width of his son's back as he stroked the baby's soft-skinned newness. He grinned hugely at the heartbeat pulsing steadily under his fingers, and to see all four little limbs stretch and tiny hands grasp in response to his touch. Ed offered his baby son his left index finger, his smile growing to idiot proportions as a tiny fist immediately curled around it.

Three times now his children had done this to him, coming into the world. It would never, ever get old.

"Sleepy little _liefling_," Ed tried the endearment softly. It felt strangely natural applied to this tiny, downy-headed scrap of life he had fathered. "Are you too lazy to eat or do you just like it where you are? Not that I blame him," Ed breathed softly in his wife's ear, the laughter in his voice sending a pleasant tingle down her neck. "I like being where he is, too."

"Wan' to hold him? Think 'm gonna fall asleep." Winry blinked up at her husband slowly, already half-gone. "Wake me up if he gets hungry."

Ed nodded against her shoulder. "Should I let Al and Lana in with the kids in a bit?"

"Sure. Just...gimme a minute..." his wife trailed off with a quiet snore.

Weariness hit Edward just as suddenly, the aftermath of all the adrenaline that had been surging through his system. He pushed it aside to scoop up the red-faced infant in the blanket, keeping the cloth between his son and the steel of his arm. He gingerly shook out his abused left hand before sagging back against the headboard with a sigh.

Ahhh. There it was. That profound sense of peace, that weightless, wonderful quiet that only happened at this time. The golden perfect moment had arrived and taken over the room. Winry was safe, Winry was fine and Edward was holding their son, healthy and whole and absolutely perfect. _Their__son_.

"So what are we going to call you, kiddo?" Edward questioned the drowsing infant idly, his voice low and very soft. Births always seemed to call for whispering. It seemed a sacrilege to disturb the delicate universe of the room.

"Your brother is named for your grandfather, and your sister's named for your grandmother. Even my ego's not big enough to stick you with my name." A bark of laughter escaped him as he said it, relief making the idea funnier than it might have been.

"Ha! Edward junior!" Ed laughed silently, the movement causing Winry to chuckle sleepily against him and the baby to burble quietly. "I don't understand why people do that to their kids, do you?" He addressed his son, grinning as he brushed a soft kiss against the baby's forehead.

He chuckled again, deep in his chest. "Certainly not. Far too quiet to be named after _me_…

"But maybe you qualify as an Al." Edward considered it, cocking his head over the tiny form. There was a wise sort of innocence…a _stillness_ about him that reminded Edward of his brother. Even as a baby Al had taken the world in with solemn wonder and round-eyed delight. Al had always been the patient one, the one with the calm that drew people and animals alike.

"Alphonse. Alphonse? Huh." Ed pursed his lips, trying it out. "Maybe."

"I like Alphonse," Winry chimed sleepily. "Gonna be confusin', tho'."

"No kidding." Ed smiled against her ear. Really, Winry had the loveliest ears, all shell-shaped and translucent. Lovely ears, lovely eyelashes, lovely stubborn chin and lovely snub nose and lovely, lovely, paradise-blue eyes.

By god, if they weren't both so tired he would have made love to her then and there—even with the entire assembly of friends and family listening below. Ed settled for kissing her again before turning his attention back on their baby--

To find that the newest addition to the Elric clan was making a determined effort to study his father's face. With a set of huge, clear, blue-on-green eyes. Eyes like the sun on a calm sea. Eyes that were terribly familiar.

Edward's own eyes went wide. "_Alfons_," he whispered. His son smiled at his voice, open-mouthed and toothless and sweet.

Alfons it was.

_Fin_

---

And that, my children, is the story of the very youngest Elric, Alfons Nikola, and the day he arrived.

I may add more of a conclusion later, especially if I get a lot of "excuse me, this doesn't make sense" sort of reviews.

One more note: SSJ Mihoshi was the beta reader/guinea pig on this project. I had the thought, and she agreed, that this ending might lead people to think I was implying some sort of Heiderich-resurrection-complex…

The answer is no, never, absolutely not. This Alfons startles his papa with how much he looks like the _other_ Alfons, but he is himself and no other (and if you think about it, it makes sense that between Elric and Rockbell genes you'd get a kid who looked like Al with blindingly blond hair and a green tint to his blue eyes).

I wouldn't do that to you guys; that would be lameness of a degree I have not yet attained.


End file.
